Jump the couch
by cein
Summary: Torchwood mourns one of their own don't worry, it's a funfic! little bit of swearing included, nothing you won't have already heard on the show


Title: Jump the couch  
Author: Ceindreadh  
Characters: team  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto  
Word Count: 830  
Rating: PG-15  
Genre: Humour!  
Summary: Torchwood mourns one of their own (see the genre)  
Warnings: Swearing and innuendo (you expected something different)  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Torchwood characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.

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"Shit, shit, shit!" Owen swore to himself as he hurried towards the Hub door. "Fuck," he added, glancing at his watch as he waited impatiently for the door to roll back. It was late even by his tardy standards and he had no excuse beyond the usual 'stayed out on the pull and forgot to set the alarm'. Still, on the plus side, nobody had tried to contact him, so clearly he hadn't missed any earth shattering developments.

It wasn't until Owen saw a morose looking Jack standing in the middle of the Hub, glass of whisky in his hand, that he realized he had been mistaken.

"My friends," said Jack, "We are gathered here together to pay tribute to a fallen comrade."

The words echoed round Owen's head before heading straight for his stomach, creating a sick feeling that had nothing to do with the amount of beer he'd consumed the night before. Then he took a closer look at Jack and his companions, heaving a mental sigh of relief as he counted all of his colleagues among their number. "Must be somebody from Two," he thought. "Or maybe one of those UNIT blokes, still, better show a bit of respect or summat."

As discreetly as possible, Owen sidled up to Gwen, who was looking a bit confused. Jack showed no sign of acknowledgement to Owen as he continued his eulogy for the departed. "A loyal servant, a long serving member of the organization. I don't think we'll ever see their like again. Let us raise our glasses in honour." He held out his glass and Owen followed his line of sight only to blurt out in surprise, "We're mourning the couch?"

Jack turned away from the crumpled pile of wood and cushions that had once been a piece of furniture. "That couch has been part of Torchwood for longer than anybody here, apart from me. It's part of our heritage and as such is deserving of some acknowledgement."

"It's a fucking couch."

"Funnily enough," said Ianto in an aside to Tosh, "That was actually its undoing." A smile flickered on his lips as Tosh tried to strangle a laugh. Ianto quickly schooled his features into a carefully neutral expression as Jack glared at them before turning his attention back to Owen.

"That couch has worked more hours per day than you ever did," said Jack.

"I can vouch for that," muttered Ianto.

"It has provided untold hours of solace and comfort," continued Jack.

"Not to mention being a damn good surface for shagging," said Ianto in Tosh's ear, nearly causing a small attack of apoplexy.

"And its presence will be sorely..." Jack turned his full attention to Ianto. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not taking this seriously?"

"Probably your finely tuned senses and intuition," replied Ianto. As an apparent afterthought, he added, "Sir."

"I would have thought that you feel a touch of guilt, since you *were* responsible for its demise."

"As I recall, I warned you distinctly on two occasions that the couch was rocking rather more vigorously than could be accounted for by your, ahem, 'rocking'. It's not my fault you were a tad, distracted."

"You wear the magenta tie with *that* pink shirt, and it's *my* fault I'm distracted?"

"Oh my God!" Gwen blurted out, "You mean that you two shagged the couch to death?"

"We came, it went," said Ianto, solemnly.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," said Owen. "I sat on that bloody thing, and all the time you two have been using it as a fucking..."

"Yes Owen, we get the picture," said Gwen.

"We certainly do," said Tosh, a distant expression on her face.

"Well it's all water under the bridge," said Ianto. He stepped over to Jack and squeezed his shoulder in an apparent gesture of manly comfort. Of course he knew full well that Jack's shoulder was quite sensitive to the touch, and if he squeezed it just so, well, the words 'putty in his hands' came to mind. "Jack, we shall all feel better after the 'remains' have been decently disposed of. And while I know there can be no emotional way to replace our fallen comrade, perhaps a physical replacement would go some way to easing our pain."

Jack nodded slowly, "Yes, I think I'd have to agree with you there Ianto."

"And of course such a replacement would have to be vetted...thoroughly...before any decision could be made. After all, we wouldn't want to have to go through this whole 'ordeal' again." Ianto could see from the sudden gleam in Jack's eyes that he had got the message loud and clear.

"Okay guys," said Jack, grabbing Ianto by the hand and heading for the door. "Ianto and I are going shopping. We'll be back...soon."

"Sooner than that if they kicked out of IKEA again," said Tosh to Gwen.

"They didn't!"

"They did, and I have the security footage to prove it!"

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The End


End file.
